Morning
I see you in the morning
your face still tender from sleep
your eyes still a part of
that other, inner world
I can never follow you to.
You always wake before I do.
You shuffle to the light
of the kitchen
and scratch your beard.
You have been growing it long
these days
and I have been cutting my hair.
Our bodies touch in small ways
as we begin the day
because we need our own bodies first
to steady ourselves
for the tasks ahead.
Until one of us must leave
the house
then we circle each other
with strong arms
draw nets of protection
around each other's dear souls.
I have tremendous love for you.
I first felt it growing
all along my collarbone
one afternoon
years ago and I was
surprised by how it felt
or that I was given a chance
to feel it.
It was the strangest sensation-
warm, alive, its own force.
Like water rising along my skin.
There was never a fear of drowning
just a strong desire to learn
how to swim.
And I know now that love
is a luxury
and that the country of this love
has changed me.
I was just a foreigner before
never really knowing
how to speak
or how to be understood.
Fumbling with my words
clutching at maps
getting lost.
It was only when
I let all of that go-
the striving
the need to be
held, to be understood
to be half of something
that I became who I am.
And there you were
and here you are
preparing the early coffee
all the morning birds
smiling.